


Ælfscíene Rice

by EternalFangirl



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, And Arthur and Merlin are equals, Arthur's basically like, Balinor is a king, But equal, Different as night and day, I never knew it could be so good., M/M, Wasn't magic supposed to be bad?, dude - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-15 11:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8054722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalFangirl/pseuds/EternalFangirl
Summary: “We have to be careful.”
“I know,” said Arthur, suitably grim.
“Ealdor is a different sort of land. The king is a very powerful sorcerer, Arthur. Magic is free to wreak havoc on the unsuspecting there. We have to be on guard at all times. Trust no one.”
What sort of mad tyrant would actually let such a negative force reign free? Arthur frowned in thought.
 

When Arthur accompanies his father on a visit to their neighbouring kingdom of Ealdor, King Balinor and his son change his perceptions about magic without even trying.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The name of the fic means the bright, fae, fairylike and enlightened kingdom.

 

“We have to be careful.”

Arthur looked his father in the eye, ignoring George’s deft hands dressing him in his finest jerkin. He could see the tension around his king’s eyes, even though he doubted anyone else really could. Uther was worried. “I know,” said Arthur, suitably grim.

“Ealdor is a different sort of land,” Uther began, taking a chair out of George’s efficient way. “The king is a very powerful sorcerer, Arthur. Magic is free to wreak havoc on the unsuspecting there. We have to be on guard at all times. Trust no one.”

What sort of mad tyrant would actually let such a negative force reign free? Arthur frowned in thought. Well, if the king was evil, he wouldn’t have a problem letting common folk be evil either. Kingdoms such as this filled Arthur with a righteous need for war, to wrest away the people from the king’s evil clutches and deliver them to the safety and peace of Uther’s reign. But Camelot could never dream of going to war with Ealdor. They would lose every man they had before the war even began. They couldn’t raise swords against sorcery, which is why this treaty was necessary. Having protection from such a powerful neighbour would strengthen their position greatly.

“And be wary of the prince,” cautioned Uther. “He is around your age, so he will be in charge of entertaining you and Morgana. Keep your eyes and ears open around him. Don’t trust him.”

Arthur eyed his father carefully as George knelt to put his boots on. “Why are you so afraid of a teenager?” He said as George tactfully slipped away.

“Because he is stronger than his father,” said Uther darkly, sighing. “He has a lot more magic, and he is… people say he could do things when he was little that no child can. He’s something else.” Uther got lost in his thoughts for a while before briskly slapping his knee and coming on to more practical matters. “George will taste all your food and drink before you partake. Remember,  _ everything  _ needs to be tasted. A knight from our company will be with you at all times.” Anticipating his protests, he hastened to mention, “you can chose who that is. Sir Leon or Sir Lancelot, if you need them. Or Sir Elyan, perhaps? But the point remains. You will be accompanied as best as possible, Arthur. They can… make you do things. Put ideas in your head that you cannot escape at all. Commands you have to follow. They can make you kill me, or yourself. Someone who knows you should keep an eye on your behaviour.”

Arthur stared at his father, certain he had never seen the man so afraid even before a major battle. He understood the reason. There was no visible enemy in this war, and no visible weapon. It was a sneaky cowardly way to fight, but who could expect any better from sorcerers? He bowed his head. “Yes, father.”

“It’s a rotten kingdom, son.”

* * *

 

“They are scared of us,” said Balinor with a sigh.

Merlin stopped in his frenzied search for his favourite boots, kneeling beside the bed, torso stuck under the bed as his butt shimmied high up in the air, arms scrambling to look for the soft leather by feel alone. He could feel a ton of dust, and vowed to tell Gilli when the boy came in to clean tomorrow morning.

“Do the Pendragons need extra lights in their rooms at night to chase away the big, bad dark?” he said mockingly. “It can be arranged.”

“They don’t like magic.”

“Yeah?” Merlin’s petulant tone was muffled by the fact that his head was under the bed now. “Well, magic doesn’t like those bigoted kid murderers.”

Balinor smiled. “I am assuming I don’t need to explain why you can’t talk like that—” he paused indulgently at the triumphant shout—“when the royal convoy arrives.”

Merlin clutched his treasured boot to his chest. “No, you don’t. I will be my most charming self.” He gave his most charming smile to prove it, his face splitting with the sheer power of his goofy grin.

Hunith entered his room before Balinor could say anything else. “Did you tell him yet?” she asked her husband.

“I was about to,” muttered Merlin’s father, ducking his head. His long dark hair obscured his face.

“The Pendragons will arrive by noon today,” Hunith chided.

“Tell me what?” said Merlin absent-mindedly, wondering where his socks went. His parents’ seriousness made its way through his hosiery-preoccupied mind in slow motion. He turned, giving them his full attention.

“You need to be a bit careful with your magic while the Pendragons are here, Merlin,” said his mum gently. “They must already be spooked by all the tales they have heard of your magic.” She walked to the bed and rummaged under the pillow to tug out a pair of laundered socks. “Don’t scare them more. No big displays, no… well. If the prince is uncomfortable with what you are doing, you could try stopping, I suppose.” She handed Merlin the socks.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “You make it sound as if I am trying to deflower a virgin with my mighty magic.”

Balinor laughed as Hunith chuckled. “It’s a bit like that, unfortunately. The boy doesn’t know magic can be used for good. He thinks… oh, heaven knows what he thinks after all the filth Uther must have filled his head with?” Hunith shook her head. “Just have pity on him, and give him a chance.”

Merlin nodded as his parents began to leave. “I will. I won’t disappoint you.”

“You never have,” said Balinor.

“Oh, and Merlin?” said Hunith, waiting till Merlin looked her in the eye to continue. “You might want to shower and dress again. We don’t want all of Camelot knowing how much dust is under your bed.”

Merlin looked down at his ruined ceremonial tunic and breeches. Well, oops. At least he hadn’t put his boots on yet. Now, where was that blue tunic of his?


	2. Chapter 1: So You Wanna Play With Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To create the magical palace of Ealdor with splendor and opulence, I tried searching for various concept arts and bored audlie45 to death by sending her tons of pictures and wallpapers. It was only later, when I realized that every search for beautiful palace gardens ends up at Versailles, that I decided to just use Versailles as the base for Ealdor. So yeah. I stole Versailles as the inspiration for Ealdor. Sorry, but it is pretty darn magical and it already exists so… yeah. Don’t sue?
> 
> The dragons are, of course, my own contribution to Louis’ fabulous court.

The palace of Ealdor was an enormous tribute to splendor.

 

The castle gates looming ahead of them were at least sixty feet high, with an enormous stone dragon perched on top, its life-like eyes fixed on the road, wings spread as if it had been immortalised in stone as it was about to take flight.There were knights on both sides of the gigantic wings. They lined the machicolation all round the castle, welcoming the visitors with all weapons stowed away, blue capes fluttering in the wind.

 

The welcoming guard that had met them at the border rode underneath the dragon statue as if it weren’t impressive in the least. It probably didn’t intimidate them anymore, but that was certainly its purpose--to intimidate all those foolish to think they could take up arms against Ealdor. Arthur felt his father stiffen in his saddle next to him.

 

Unlike at Camelot, the gates did not immediately lead to the bailey. Instead, the royal party followed their host through the most lavish and expensive gardens Arthur had ever seen. The pathway was flanked by grass on both sides, cut and styled into intricate designs, overlooked by exotic flora the likes of which Arthur had never seen before. The grass was cut in [ intricate druidic designs ](https://www.jeffreydonenfeld.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/Palace_of_Versailles1.jpg) . He tried not to stare, not to look around in childish awe, but he was very aware of the fact that he could neither see the palace properly--a [ resplendent fountain ](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/1a/Fountain_in_the_Parc_de_Versailles_\(2519388110\).jpg) blocked his view--nor could he see the curtain wall on either side. It was too vast to see the end. Everything was opulent, and nothing was ordinary.

 

The fountain, he noticed, was made up of golden, life-size human and animal figurines gazing upon the face of three goddesses. Water sprouted like an offering from each of their mouths. Swans and turtles--with details so intricate they looked real--frolicked at their feet. The serenity in the faces of the goddesses was touching.

 

Arthur could not contain his awestruck gasp when he saw the [ palace ](https://cache-graphicslib.viator.com/graphicslib/thumbs674x446/2050/SITours/versailles-small-group-tour-from-paris-with-audio-guide-in-paris-115513.jpg) clearly for the first time. It was colossal, and for the first time Arthur realized with absolute certainty that magic was involved in its creation. He had heard tales that the Palace of Ealdor was the largest in the world. But this was not just the largest. This was the largest palace that could _ever_ exist in the world.

 

The grand facade went on and on in either direction for miles, with the [ marble courtyard ](https://traveltoeat.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/wpid-Photo-Sep-10-2012-156-PM.jpg)in checkered black and white beckoning to a gold gilded entrance in the middle. There was a gold-gilded clock embedded above them, larger than the span of Arthur’s arms. Golden dragons winked from every rooftop, and Arthur thought about the gloomy gargoyles of Camelot without meaning to compare. There was no comparison. It would be like comparing a man to God. Even with his pride in his kingdom, Arthur understood that.

 

The royal household stood lined in the marble courtyard, ready to invite them in.

 

The king and queen smiled broadly as they approached, and the others followed suit. Arthur deliberately tried to relax his tense shoulders. It wouldn’t do to offend on his first day.

 

“Welcome to Ealdor, King Uther and his loyal ministers,”said Balinor in a strangely lyrical accent. “We are pleased by your interest in our way of life.” Stable hands started to move forward to help the royal party off their horses. “Prince Arthur, it is an honour to finally meet you. The queen and I have heard great things about you.”

 

Arthur smiled again as he dismounted his horse nimbly. “Thank you, Your Grace. I have been looking forward to meeting you as well.” He turned to the queen. “I daresay, my lady, the tales of your beauty were not exaggerated.”

 

She blushed prettily, surprising him. “You are an accomplished flatterer, your Grace. May I present the crown prince? Our Merlin has been looking forward to meeting you.”

 

Before Merlin could answer, the queen tugged forward a young man with unfortunately enormous ears and the sharpest cheekbones Arthur had ever seen. He was smiling as well, but his smile looked like the fake one Arthur used when he couldn’t escape royal duties. Even though he was dressed in rich fabrics and the finest leather, Prince Merlin of Ealdor looked like a starving street urchin someone had dressed up. His blue eyes were measuring Arthur as well. “I am glad to finally be making your acquaintance, Prince Arthur. Welcome to Ealdor.”

 

“I have heard great tales about you,” said Arthur. “I am glad we finally get to meet in person.”

 

“Come,” said the queen lightly. “All other required pleasantries can wait till we are inside and away from all this heat.”

 

Arthur was surprised at the casual remark in the middle of official affairs. He turned slightly to see his father the king inside, and smiled. “Certainly. Please, lead the way if you will.”

 

By the time they follow both the kings inside, Uther had already begun to discuss the treaty. Arthur discreety rolled his eyes. Most of the advisors were still outside, and Arthur was tired, hot and dusty. They were going to be in Ealdor for at least another week. Could the work not wait?

 

As soon as there was a lull in his father’s monologue, the queen spoke. “Sefa will show you to your chambers, your majesty. I am certain you must be tired. Won’t you rest a while before dinner?”

 

Arthur decided right then and there that he was in love with the queen. His father looked shocked to have a woman speak up in the middle of his conversation, but he schooled his features and nodded. “It is a most wonderful idea, my lady.”

 

The queen now turned to face Arthur. “Prince Arthur, your chambers are close to Merlin’s. He will show you to them. I sincerely hope they are to your liking. Would you like me to order a bath for you?”

 

Arthur smiled at the thought of a hot bath. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

 

He followed Merlin quietly enough, a favor the prince didn’t return. He interrupted Arthur’s awestruck gaping at his surrounding by chattering on and on.

 

“I heard you are an accomplished warrior,” he said as they passed an opulent [ hall with walls made of mirrors ](http://creativeproposalideas.net/wp-content/uploads/2016/04/versailles-mirrors.jpg). Enormous crystal chandeliers dripped from the ceiling, and the light from the tall windows glinted perfectly off the life size golden figurines lining their path. Arthur wondered if they were made of actual gold. Could one build gold out of magic? The ceiling was a colourful array of the most breathtaking art Arthur had ever seen. It was so detailed, so beautiful, that Arthur had half a mind to just lie down on the floor and discover all the secrets the ceiling held. It was an absurd thought.

 

“Personally, I do not think I would do well at it, not with my skinny arms I suppose. But that’s just as well. It’s not like I _want_ to learn how to kill people. That is perhaps a life skill to do without.” His footsteps hesitated on the stairs they were going up as he realized what he had just said. “Like, not that there’s something wrong with knowing how to do that. It’s just that I would much rather learn things than crack people’s heads open.”

 

Arthur was tempted to break open Merlin’s skull and see if that shut him up. The boy had no sense of gravitas. “Is that what you like to do? Study?” He hadn’t meant to sound so mocking, but Merlin stopped in the middle of the corridor, the back of his prominent ears going red.

 

“And what is so wrong with learning things?”

 

“What’s wrong with being an accomplished warrior? My people look up to me.”

 

“You aren’t really that tall.”

 

Arthur spluttered with indignation, an angry flush making its way onto his cheeks. “I could take you apart with one blow!”

 

“I could take you apart with less than that!”

 

Arthur had no answer to that, and eventually Merlin turned around to slam open a pair of heavy wooden doors that led to his chambers.

* * *

“Are you being nice to him, Merlin?”

 

“Yes, mum.”

 

“Are you certain? Because the prince is only misguided in his views of us due to his father’s twisted beliefs. It’s not his fault.”

 

“Is it his fault he’s a prat?”

 

Hunith laughed at the petulant tone. “Perhaps. But give him time to settle in. He considers this a hostile environment, Merlin. Let him know that this is a safe space, that we mean him no harm.”

 

“Or I could put laxatives in his soup,” said Merlin, flopping down on his bed with a sigh. Enduring prats was a tiring business. His mother giggled and her stern expression broke as she started to fiddle with one of the many clay figurines lining his mantelpiece. “Merlin, give the boy a chance.”

 

Merlin sighed. “Yes, mum.”

* * *

“You need to get along with the prince,” said Uther in an undertone as they met right outside the royal dining room.

 

“I know, Father,” said Arthur, matching his tone.

 

“But be careful.”

 

“I will be.”

* * *

 

The [ private dining room ](https://in.pinterest.com/pin/74872412525905940/) was, for once, smaller than Arthur had thought it would be. He realized as he looked at the bright and airy room that her royal highness had not been exaggerating when she said that they would have a small, intimate dinner--the room was small and set only for the two royal families. The five place setting glistened under a huge chandelier, with the last beams of the sinking sun streaming in from the windows to add a touch of whimsy to the room.

 

Arthur was suddenly very grateful to be away from the watchful eyes of the subjects--of both kingdoms. He had no immediate interest in eating in front of a crowd, being judged silently. Surely, in an intimate party, he could relax.

 

His father, on the other hand, froze like a deer at the end of a crossbow. Arthur discreetly raised an eyebrow in question. “They might enchant us,” hissed Uther in his ears. “Be careful. Eat only after they have begun.”

 

Arthur’s brow furrowed as he recognized the danger. He hastily rearranged his face when Merlin came up to him, hand outstretched. “Welcome, I hope you are hungry, Your Majesty, Prince Arthur. We have quite the feast planned.”

 

When the queen smiled and motioned for Arthur to sit next to her son, Arthur panicked. He was certain the queen saw his alarmed glance at his father, but thankfully she kept mum.

 

They sat without incident, and the servants began bringing their dishes forward.

 

Merlin was trying to make amends for that afternoon’s verbal battle, he could see. The boy refused to shut up. “I dislike eating meats. I have no idea why, it just never sits well. Father says it might be because of my magic, because I can feel the pain of the animals I eat, but I just don’t know. Now, sweets! There’s something I adore… I would love to eat a full meal comprised of nothing but sugar. My favourite--”

 

The king stopped his conversation with Arthur’s father to speak to his son. “Merlin. Babbling.”

 

The boy shut up instantly. For thirty seconds. “What do you like to eat?”

 

This was going to be a very interesting dinner.

  



End file.
